


Burn for You

by InTheShadows



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Angst and Humor, Boys In Love, Field Trip, Harry Potter References, Homophobia, M/M, Malcom Grim's A+ Parenting, POV Baz, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-25
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-09-19 18:55:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9456005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InTheShadows/pseuds/InTheShadows
Summary: According to their class they fight like an old married couple. Hell, according to theschool, they do. Everyone assumes it is sexual tension and have tired various plots to get them together. So when it's time to pick roommates for the school trip... Neither Baz nor Simon seem happy. (But what they don't know won't hurt them.) (And not just the two boys.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Has anyone else heard Fire and Fury by Skillet and immediately thought of Snowbaz? Cause that's how this title can to be.

**Baz**

“And here I thought this was suppose to be a _fun_ trip,” I drawl in the most condescending tone I can manage. Which is quite a bit. I have perfected the tone over the years. After all, what else can be expected from a rich, handsome, and arrogant teen such as myself. I'm suppose to think I am God's gift to humanity after all.

Around me there is the various and predictable reactions of my fellow classmates. Some snort, some roll their eyes and most ignore me. Which is fine. That means I'm doing my job well. It would be more alarming if they didn't act this way.

“Is there a problem Mr Pitch?” our Professor, Miss Possibelf, asks.

“If the point of this trip is to enjoy ourselves, then why am I still stuck rooming with Snow? As in, my roommate during the semester as well as here?”

I swear Professor Possibelf fights to roll her eyes as she answers me. Well that's new. I've never seen the Professors take interest in this before. I wonder if she is in on the pool as well. Maybe Snow has heard. Or rather, maybe Bunce has heard and told Snow about it. Dev and Niall informed me, but I didn't need to be told. I already knew.

I also have money down, under Dev's name.

“I am afraid Mr Pitch that the students had much more of an input on room assignments than the Professors did. You will have to take it up with them.”

I raise an eyebrow, to convey my incredulous, but don't verbally reply. Is _this_ their latest ploy than? And Snow believes _I'm_ the one always plotting. 'Dev' just might be putting more money down on that betting pool.

“But Penny,” I hear Snow whining behind me and grin.

“No Simon,” Bunce says firmly, “I am not listening to this. Again. Honestly, the two of you fight like an old married couple.”

“We do not!”

“Simon, my grandparents don't bicker as much as the two of you and they have been married fifty two years!”

I turn to see Bunce standing in front of Snow, hands on her hips. She looks rather annoyed, going by the furrow on her brow. She tugs a curly strand of neon purple hair behind her ear as she glares. I snort in amusement and she turns her fierce glare onto me.

I smirk at her. “Really Bunce,” I tell her, “just because Snow is incapable of leaving us innocent bystanders alone, there is no need to insult the sacred institution.”

“Innocent,” Snow sputters, “you, no way, innocent my arse.”

“Congratulations Snow, that was almost a sentence,” I say it sarcastically, like I don't mean it. But I do. Snow has a speech impediment that makes talking hard. Most of the time he just shrugs or flips you off, depending. It took years before he spoke on a regular basis. That first year I didn't hear him say more than a hundred words and I was his roommate.

Provoking him then meant bruises, not yelling matches. Even now, after the speech therapy, he still finds it easier to communicate nonverbally. Besides Bunce, I'm likely the only one who understands all of it. It's an odd system. But than Snow is an idiot, so.

Snow, as predicted, gives me the finger.

“Boys,” Bunce mutters and walks away.

I wave at her back, just to be an arse.

“Let's go,” Snow commands as he grabs his bag and starts walking off to the lift. I follow because he has our room key. I don't walk beside him. I never walk beside him, that would break the natural order of things. There is a universal rule, or there should be, that Grimm-Pitch and Snow do not walk beside each other. It just isn't done.

And what a view that rule gives me.

As soon as we are in our room, Snow drops onto one of the beds. He acts as if he is exhausted already and the only thing we have done today is arrive on the bus. Although the ride was tedious. There is nothing quite exhausting as being in an enclosed, uncomfortable space with your classmates for hours on end. A three day trip to London. Honestly, what was Watford thinking? Who cares about London?

Personally, my plan is to spend every minute I can in the various museums. I might as well make this worth it. Not that I believe that is what will happen. Snow isn't exactly the museum type. Unless you count the Zoo. Then the bloody imbecile will spend all day cooing at the vicious animals as if they are pets.

It's disgusting and bloody childish. What teen is still that enamored with animals to that degree? We are almost adults, for God's sake. Simply because he gets to hear the lions roar or thinks a penguin waved at him, doesn't mean his eyes have to light up the sky. It doesn't mean he has to laugh his enthralling laugh. It doesn't mean his grin has to take up his whole face, shinning in pure joy.

It's adorable.

It's also a good thing no one can read my mind or my reputation would be in ruins. Snow makes me soft.

He turns his head and looks at me, grinning. “Upset about your roommate,” he snickers.

“Yes Snow,” I tell him seriously, “Your face is the first thing see when I wake up and the last thing I see when I go to bed. Why would I want to continue that?”

“I'm gorgeous,” he answers, still snickering.

And he's right. He is. He doesn't believe me when I tell him that, but God help me, he is the most gorgeous boy I have ever seen. His eyes are a deep blue that, cliché enough, I could drown in. His hair is a mess of golden, wild curls on top, while the rest is a soft, short length.

His skin is another color of gold, one that never tans. He's always too thin, not having enough to eat in the summer, but that only wants to make me feed him during the school year. And I do. It's also covered in freckles and moles and I have a habit of tracing them with my tongue.

Simon Snow is the sun and I will gladly go blind staring at him.

“Well Snow-”

“-Simon,” he interrupts. “Alone right now. _Simon_.”

“Whatever you say Snow,” I say just to bait him.

“Wanker,” he accuses.

“Now why would I wank when I have a boyfriend conveniently at my disposal?”

Snow smirks. “Boyfriend?” his tone is mischievous, “why haven't I heard of him?”

“Idiot,” I tell him as I still down beside him on the bed. Automatically he reaches up with his hand and pulls me down. Our lips meet in a kiss that makes my toes curl. I could kiss Snow all day. We did, one time. My lips were chapped for days. My neck was sore from having to constantly reach for him, where he held himself above me. It was worth it.

He takes my bottom lip in-between his and gently bites. I shiver. We found out quickly the Snow is a biter, after we began dating. He bites and he sucks and I look like a vampire made out with me some days. It's lovely.

We kiss and we kiss and we kiss before Snow pulls me down farther so I am resting on top on him. People look at Snow and assume he's weak. But he's not. He's quite strong actually.

“Ebb knows,” he tells me.

Ebeneza Petty, Ebb, is one of the caretakers at Watford. She has various jobs, from minding the grounds, to minding the students. My Mother hired her, before she died. And now she knows.

I want to sit up, but Snow holds me down. “It's alright,” he assures.

“Alright?” my voice is higher then it should be. “Alright? How can it be when someone, when _Ebb_ ,” I sneer her name, “knows?”

Snow shrugs reassuringly.

I am not reassured. “Does she have proof?” I demand.

He shakes his head. “It's fine. She won't tell.”

“And how do you know that?”

“Asked her not to.”

“And she will? She gave her word? Because this can't get out. It's one thing for our idiot classmates to try and set us up. But it's completely different thing if word gets out that we are a couple. You know what will happen. My-”

Snow covers my mouth with his hand. “ _Fine_ ,” he tells me, eyes too soft, “it's _fine._ She understands.”

“Are you sure?” I have to ask. I hate this. I absolutely hate this. No one is suppose to know. Sure, there's the joke about us fighting like an old married couple. And there's the hope that by forcing us together, we'll eventually start dating. But that can't actually happen. Not while I still live at home.

Snow nods. “Positive. Promise.”

I sigh. “For the record, give warning next time you try and give me a heart attack Snow.”

“ _Simon_.”

“Simon,” I echo, smiling.

He grins his bright grin and kisses me again. He rolls us over so that he is on top, hovering over me. His weight presses me down on the bed. A comfortable weight. A safe weight. He twists a strand of my hair around his finger. Not only is he a biter, he is also fixated on my hair. He's always taking it out of the bun I keep it in so he can play with it.

I sigh and close my eyes. If only. I would shout it from the roof tops that I am in love with Simon Snow. I would tattoo it for all the world to see. But my Father is under the impression that I am over my 'phase' as he puts it. I told him I was gay when I was fourteen. He told me I was confused and that I couldn't possibly be gay because I was a Grimm-Pitch. I haven't brought it up since.

I was fourteen and scared and so in love with Snow that I thought I would go insane. The boy who I had spent years fighting, was the one I was in love with. This boy, this absolute mess of a boy, was the one I wanted to give my heart to. Likely for him to step on it and break it.

Fourteen was not a good year.

It's still a miracle that Snow agreed to go out with me to begin with. I never thought he would. I was convinced when I kissed him in an anger fueled moment that he was going to kill me. I would have gladly let him. I kissed him because I thought that would scare him away. He wouldn't leave me alone and I needed him to. But he stayed instead. He got closer.

Fifteen was a good year after that.

Now I just want to make it till graduation, when I plan to come out. I'll be an adult by then and Father will have no say in my life. I have everything planned out. With two backup plans, just to be cautious. I'm not sure my family will take it. I doubt Daphne will mind, but the rest?

So, like the sickening sweet couple we secretly are, Snow and I are planning on moving in together and going to uni together. Or close to each other, we haven't received our letters yet.

Snow gives a sharp tug on my hair.

“Ow!” I glare at him.

“Be happy,” he commands.

I roll my eyes. “Yes Simon, I am happy. I am the definition of happy. I have the sunniest personality in the entire school, ask anyone.”

He twirls the strand. “Snape,” he jokes. As if I haven't heard it a thousand times before. People have no creativity. Or intelligence.

I snort. “Bloody Harry Potter. Why does everyone compare me to Snape?”

“Everyone thinks both of you are vampires,” he shrugs. “Malfoy fits better.”

“I've always thought so. We both have looks and wealth as well as charm.”

Snow snorts.

“And you're _clearly_ Potter without the tragic glasses and scar.”

“Penny bought a pair. Said I'm just as obsessed.”

“There _was_ an awful amount of stalking involved, especially in the Half-Blood Prince.”

“And they wonder why I ship Drarry.”

I raise an eyebrow. “You admit that to people?”

“No, but people wonder. As if I'm not living it.”

“Well clearly you're doing a better job than Potter.”

Snow nods happily. His curls fall down into his face and I brush them away. “Have _my_ boyfriend. He never admits to his.”

“Idiot Scarhead. Just look at what he's missing,” I caress his cheek gently, paying special attention to the three moles there. His skin is like the sun. His eyes like jewels. Oh yes, I am aware how far gone I am. Disgustingly sweet.

“Dumb ferret,” he murmurs against my lips. But then Snow ruins the moment by laughing instead of kissing me. Which is just like him.

I sigh. “You are a wreck,” I inform him.

Snow just smiles, “We match,” he tells me cheekily. Which, fair enough. I've said that to him enough times now.

“So,” I smirk, “we have a room to ourselves and no set schedule. Whatever shall we do?”

“Can we go see the otters?”

Oh Simon Snow.

 

 

 

 


End file.
